Sporadic snatches of text message that you can’t quite keep up with.
Some you catch, like waves, for surf.
Some you leave to curve into the distance.
Pick them up later.
Like coins dropped by well wishers.
Just giving the moment definition.
But oceans have a bed
And wells have a shallow that this moment hasn’t.
Far deeper than that.
And all the best wishes become swimming fish,
With or against the tide that you paddle in.
At 12.35pm on Saturday 4th April 2015, my wife gave birth to our first child, Finlay. After a successful delivery, Finlay began showing symptoms of illness, including respiratory problems.
Whilst my wife was in in theatre undergoing surgical repair, Finlay was admitted to neonatal intensive care to be treated for an undiagnosed infection.
The following posts will comprise a chronological collection of my unedited writing from the day after delivery up until the present.